Monday, March 13, 2006

R.I.P Marshal

Nothing is permanent: Life, least of all.Twelve years earlier, I pleaded and begged my dad to get me Marshal, my very own German Shepherd. He obliged and on my birthday, I had this three month old puppy ready to woof at my command.In time, he was the best pal I had. Teaching him tricks for treat was my thing for months on end. By the time he was one year old, he towered over the other dogs in the locality and was sort of the king of the neighbourhood dogs. His extremely expressive eyes, naughty nature of chasing any other street dog and trying to go near and bark at the cows on the roads, though afraid of their horns, can never be forgotten. Marshal’s tail was his pride, the bushy tail when kept straight, touched the ground: the check for an original German Shepherd breed. Pull his tail and he’ll turn around pouncing on you. This was one of my ways to poke fun at him and one of his ideas of playing with me. Throw him a tennis ball to fetch, he’ll fetch it but never give it back until you throw him another one to make him drop the first one. Give him something to guard and you can make sure, it will be taken care of. People, thinking of his terror, called before coming home asking us to keep Marshal in the kennel before they actually were came. Intelligence shone through his eyes. There was no one who met him, who failed to appreciate his intelligence. The fun loving and efficient Marshal is no more. Twelve years of loyally guarding the house day and night and being another sibling to me and my sis, he has now retired from the world and left his earthly form.